


When the Time Comes

by AmyBlackfyre



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Daddy Kink, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry, M/M, a bit of, but just slightly, i suck at this omg, maybe a little mention of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyBlackfyre/pseuds/AmyBlackfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I used not to care up to the point I did. The first time it happened consciously was on his dining room, in the most casual of ways;  I was helping him set the table for a small dinner with Jack and my hand slipped (as it often happened then) while placing the cutlery on the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Time Comes

**Author's Note:**

> Okay.  
> So, that's the thing: I haven't written in a really long time, and I couldn't ever dream to attempt to write a fanfic with such beautiful, complex characters as Bryan's Will and Hannibal.  
> Therefore, I apologize for any misrepresentation of them, because I really, really do love these characters.  
> Other than that, I don't own any of the characters and all mistakes are my own.  
> Enjoy!

I used not to like his smile, at first. No – It wasn’t that I didn’t like it, it was just that I didn’t care about how the corners of his eyes would crinkle just a little bit when the subtle curve that his mouth made reached his eyes, giving away the sincerity of the act. His razor-sharp cheekbones would rise just a little bit, and, again, his eyes would squint just slightly, with a glint of something that could be love lightened the maroon orbs. Oh, and he would pout. Every time. Just a teeny tiny bit, and he always would ask why am I looking at him so dumbfounded.

  
How could I possibly describe it to him? How it, at first, makes my whole body tingle, from my toes to my wayward curls that he (says that) likes so much? And then, my heart beats just a little bit faster, in the good way, and a soft warmth spreads from my chest, making me flush ever-so-slightly. Most of the times I have to retrieve the placebo glasses from my pocket because I can’t bear look at him in the eyes, not when I feel my heart beating so fast because in his behalf.

  
I used not to care up to the point I did. The first time it happened consciously was on his dining room, in the most casual of ways; I was helping him set the table for a small dinner with Jack and my hand slipped (as it often happened then) while placing the cutlery on the table. If not for him, I would have cut myself badly with the sharp knife; but he caught it effortlessly, his reflexes as sharp as ever, holding my hand as well as he shook his head good-heartedly, his body that little bit too close to mine.

  
“My good Will, you have to be more careful. You can let go now.” He chided and I looked up to him, contrite, but I saw it: that subtle smile that could induce a rock to sin, warm and accepting. It took me by surprise. I didn’t think that such a stern man could act in such a light manner, so… Forgiving, in a way, if that makes any sense at all. I hadn’t done anything wrong, that’s true, but I felt like, if I had, it would have been okay anyway.

  
That event drew me closer to him like a moth to the fire.

  
You see, after that first interaction, I just knew I needed to pay more attention to it. With so much darkness occurring in my life, Hannibal in itself was an anchor and those little acts of kindness that led to his smiling brought light into life, and I let it wash over me.

With all the sleepwalking, the seizures and the fever, it wasn’t safe for me to be alone at Wolf Trap; it wasn’t safe even for the dogs.

  
“Let me take care of you, Will.” He had said in one of our meetings, a hand gently but firmly placed on my forehead to feel my temperature. “Be a good boy, yes? You are in no condition to look after yourself at the moment; let me assist you. That is what friends do, after all, is it not?” Even through my feverish haze, I could see the tiny little crinkles at the corn of his eyes. And after all, friends really do care for each other… But I knew that what disarmed me was his smile, and all the care; all the love that poured from his actions.

  
“Just this once.” I mumbled, letting myself into his strong arms, his expert hands combing through my wild curls and rubbing circles on my back as I laid my head on his chest, nuzzling on the soft wool of his red sweater, letting go from expectations, burdens and all the pain. “Just… This once.”

  
Hannibal propped his chin onto my head, and I could just feel his smile once again as the praise washed over me like a balm to my wounded mind. His whispers were so sure. How could one argue with so much… Adoration? “That’s my good boy. I will take good care of you, William… If you just let me, I will take all your pain away. Trust me.”

  
And he did. That night when he tucked me in and many other nights. With it, though, he took much more: my dignity, my freedom and my trust. But in a sad attempt of retaliation, I saw in his face so much disappointment, so much sadness that I wish I hadn’t tried so hard to pay him back for what he had done to me. What did it matter now that he had me imprisoned, accused of crimes that he did commit? The night he left me there to die along with Jack, Abigail and Alana I discovered that there was no turning back: if I miraculously survived, I would find him, and never disappoint him ever again. I could bear dying like this, I did not deserve that he made it so beautiful. I needed his forgiveness. I need to see his smile once more.

  
That brings us to where we are now. Four years passed and a lot happened, including his imprisonment; we hurt each other again and again in the meantime, but now, as we fight for our lives, nothing matters. Once, I thought killing was ugly, but now, under the moonlight, hurt and still aching in ways that have nothing to do with my injuries, I can finally see what he tried to show me all along.

  
Our movements, even after all those years, are still synchronized because our minds never had fully disconnected. He knows me too well, and I know him. We can predict each other’s moves, and poor Francis has no chance standing against us. My blade slashes through the Red Dragon’s flesh gratefully; how dared he getting in the way of our reunion? We both knew he would be there, of course, but still, that didn’t give him the right of interrupting us, nor the right of hurting Hannibal. I wanted to stop just to be able to admire his graceful movements, even when wounded. Our moves were choreographed by the despair of losing one another, and even in its darkness, that was a beautiful thing.

  
As we delivered the final blows and Francis fell to the ground, my gaze searched for his, and I could see the awe on his face. I stretched my hand, breathing laboriously, and he pulled me into his arms as he had done so many times before, but never in such a sweet manner. I knew that it was the only thing that he wanted from me all along; he didn’t have to say it. Why had I resisted so strongly? I couldn’t I just have given in, and be with him all along, instead of bringing so much pain into our lives?

  
“It’s beautiful.” I whispered brokenly. Behind all the awe, all the incredulity in his eyes I can see it forming. The slight duck of his bloodied lips, his raised cheekbones and the glint on his eyes as he smiles at me. I forgave him long ago, but now, now at least I knew for sure.

  
_I was forgiven._

**Author's Note:**

> So, hope you guys have enjoyed it!  
> Comments would make me so very happy, you know? *winks* hahaha I suck at this I'm so sorry. 
> 
> hamburgersmakesmehappy.tumblr.com


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